Last Wednesday, I packed up my car, made the semi-short drive to where Banks works and he and I headed South East to St. Simons Island for the annual workers’ compensation seminar here in Georgia. To say that I was worried about the trip was a bit of an understatement. Last year, I went alone and it was amazing. I went to the conference in the mornings and spent my afternoons running on a treadmill, sipping wine, or reading books. It was one of the most relaxing trips I’d ever been on.

So when we made plans for Banks to come with me this year, I wondered if it might be the end of our fledgling relationship. My ex and I didn’t travel well together. We fought and picked and annoyed and every time we went anywhere I almost always ended up in tears. So it was with great trepidation that I handed over the keys to my car and settled into the passenger seat beside this man who has become such a big part of my life.

Trepidation unwarranted, guys.

Yes, I’m sure it annoyed him slightly that I belted out Roxanne’s “Must Have Been Love” at the top of my voice along with intense and somewhat strange dance moves. Yes, I’m sure that he wanted to throttle me when I kept switching songs midstream because I wanted to play something else. Sure, I was a little over how long the trip took (close to four hours) and maybe I did wish I could push pedal to the metal and speed just a bit faster to our destination. But overall? The drive was amazing. We reached our hotel with a smile on our faces, our fingers still finding their way to each other for bouts of silly hand-holding.

And if the drive was amazing, the trip itself was even better. He golfed in the mornings while I learned more about my field. We met for late lunches and laughed and drank beer. Dinners were late and delicious and we even made it down to the beach to swim across the small channel to the sandbar, digging up live sand dollars with our feet and acting like teenagers in the surf.

I came home rested, rejuvenated, and so wonderfully happy with myself and him and us and life.

Traveling with a man isn’t always bad, it seems. Sometimes? It’s exactly what you need to remember that love should be, above all else, a really good time.